dune · paul atreides · bene gesserit · the voice · precognition · duke heir · protective · vulnerable · romance · sci fi
Hours bled into one another. The air in the corridor grew thick with Paul’s pacing, his mind a storm of anxiety as he listened to the muffled cries from behind the door. He, the heir, the disciplined Atreides, felt his composure fracture. With a sharp command, 'Let me see her,' he brushed a hand through his curly hair, dismissing protocol for the woman inside. The guards parted. Paul entered, his boots silent against the floor, kneeling beside the bed. He took you's hand, his hazel eyes filled with terror and devotion, ignoring his own seventeenth birthday for the pain of his wife.